"Understood," Odhrán said simply and then honoured her request to get on with. She wasn't his first patient to get more nervous as the reality of treatment sunk in. He produced his wand and looked straight into Deitha's eyes. The incantation, 'legilimens', was enunciated quietly but very precisely. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to bring the world into sharper focus.
The mental connection was near instant. Odhrán could see a confused plethora of images, showing various facets of Deitha to him. For a moment he just lingered, taking a look without trying to pull any of her thoughts of memories closer. If he'd been asked to comment, he might have said that Deitha's head was a touch more chaotic than others he had looked into, but otherwise normal. Nothing indicated curse damage, mental illness of magical origin or something similar to that. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be relieved or terrified by that. It baffled him again and again just how much damage could be done by ordinary human cruelty no supernatural powers required.
He centred his thoughts on a pretty piece of harp music he liked the play and the beautiful sea view one enjoyed from his study at Arranmore at night. A pale silver moon and a generous dusting of stars reflected in the gentle waves. Once he held the image clearly, he pushed it forward into Deitha's mind hoping her attention would focus on this thought that wasn't hers and clearly didn't belong in her head.
He reckoned his window of opportunity would close quickly so he tried to pull various images from her mind at the same time. Her parents, her first day of school, a happy memory from growing up. Who was that young man? A brother? Odhrán pulled the image closer to look at it. He was too early, whatever had changed her hadn't happened yet. First kiss. A beautiful young woman, but here he was too late, the damage had already been done. Teachers. Transfiguration, Potions, Dark Arts. None of these. Charms. The wave of resentment that hit him made it clear that he was getting closer.
Odhrán took a deep breath and refocused on his Arranmore study once again. Starlight reflecting in his pensieve. The smell of medicinal potion incredients. Clary sage and white man's foot, the sound of graphite on sketch paper. He called on imagery that while on some level personal, was mostly meaningless and easily brought to mind. He pushed some of his thoughts again to provide more of a distraction before continuing to rifle through the content of her mind.
Somewhere in the early school years. Ah... here he was. Odhrán felt a flood of impressions. Nothing had happened. Everything had happened. She'd hurt herself, no, a friend had made her sad, no, she was mourning a lost pet. It was easy to tell that these memories were false. They were too clean, too detailed, too readily offered to have genuinely been created at the time of the incident. What he was seeing were the stories Deitha told herself as well as others to explain what happened. He ignored the lot of them. Instead, he focused on a feeling: helplessness. Sure enough, looking along this path he was met with some resistance.
He changed the angle of his wand, pushed more forcefully, applying more energy to his spell. Now, he saw it.
Odhrán wanted to close his eyes so he wouldn't have to see, but of course the point of this whole exercise was for him to isolate the memory so it could be blocked.
While a moment ago it had taken force to take a look at the images, they were now flooding his mind in wild waves. Panic, despair, fear, and anger all seemed to be equally present and for a moment he felt close to being swallowed up in the maelstrom of her thoughts. Again, he returned his thoughts to his anchor. Arranmore. It was his safe place. Rather than pushing the visual he tried to push the feeling of safety through their mental link.
His wand hand was cramping up. He tried to shake it out, sending sparks flying across the room. Then he attempted another wand movement and spoke his incantations. His words came softly and firmly, trying to get the spell done in perfect sequence. A mere couple of moments later it was done.
Odhrán closed his eyes to let the mental connection break, sinking back into his chair. His head was on fire with pain and Deitha's thoughts and memories where still swirling through his mind. He hoped she needed a moment to recover as well as he wasn't sure he was capable of conversation right this moment.